


To Build a Home

by talliabram



Series: To Build a Home [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU where Cora and Sheriff are dead, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, So much angst, derek has manpain, possibly a little fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talliabram/pseuds/talliabram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Darach kills Mr. Stillinski before Scott has a chance to save him and never helps Cora, effectively allowing her to die. This is the aftermath where the Alpha Pack and the Darach have been defeated, leaving Stiles and Derek to try and learn to live without their loved ones. Derek ends up helping Stiles adjust to his new life and though they are both broken, they find a way to make each other just a little bit more whole. I plan on adding more to it so that their relationship becomes more mutual and eventually it will have some real Sterek, right now it's just the beginning of their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles walked slowly into his empty house, wanting to stall the moment as long as possible, and yet craving the familiarity of his bed after a week of non-stop ground crumbling beneath his feat. He made it through the front door and slowly worked his way up the steps. His eyes were closed in an attempt to avoid seeing the family photos on the walls, especially the ones that had both his mother and father in them. When he finally reached his bedroom it took all of his energy not to let his knees buckle in the doorframe, instead he forced himself to go the bed where he laid down and finally let himself shatter. He curled into a ball and let the sobs wretch through his throat until he was no longer capable of making sound, and even then his body still hitched and the tears still fell the only difference was that now they were eerily silent.

***

Derek sat down on his bed and thumbed through an old album of family photos. After the fire, relatives had sent them to him in the hopes that one day he could replace some of the heartache with fond memories. Now he looked at the pictures carefully, especially the one’s of Cora and wondered how he had ever thought she was dead, and how he was supposed to live now that she really was. He used to imagine talking to her, not like he would talk to Laura, but in a more secretive and private way.

Derek would imagine what he would tell her as she got older and needed advice from her older brother. The reality had been quite different, as reality tends to be. When Derek got her back he realized that he was the last person to give her advice. He had nothing to offer her except a mostly decimated pack and the promise that he would do everything he could to make things better. Not that it did her any good; she had been dead within six months of living with him.

The house felt strangely empty and for a moment he even considered texting Isaac, a desperate plan at best. He scolded himself for wanting the companionship; it was his “companionship” that was getting everyone killed in the first place -Isaac deserved more than to become another totem on the Derek-Hale-Death-Pole. He hadn’t cried yet, he had forced himself to remain stoic, just as he had after the fire. He was the head of the house, and it was his job to act like it.

Just as he was about to curl up and force himself to sleep, he heard a soft knocking at the door. His first instinct was that it was Cora and the second he realized the impossibility of it, his heart sank like a stone into his stomach. Despite that, he forced himself up and went to see who would dare bother him at a moment like this. He was unsurprised to find Scott at his door, his eyes still slightly red from the Sheriff’s funeral. It was an awkward situation for both of them, Derek had no idea what to say and Scott kept opening his mouth and then closing it like he wasn’t sure how to begin. Finally, Derek got up the nerve to speak first.

“Hey, Scott. No offense but now isn’t really the best time…” Scott nodded but did not move away from the door.

“Yeah, I know… I had this really stupid thought, and I keep trying to come up with a better solution, but I really can’t think of anything… You’re kind of my last hope. Just hear me out, if you really don’t want to, I promise I won’t bother you anymore and I’ll let you get back to mourning or whatever.”

The word “mourning” made Derek flinch but if Scott noticed, he didn’t respond to it. Rather than answering verbally, Derek gave him a terse nod that seemed to be permission to continue.

“I’m sure you saw at the funerals, but Stiles isn’t really talking to me right now. He says he doesn’t blame me and that he knows I did everything I could, but I think knowing that I was there and didn’t stop it is still making it hard for him to be near me… especially because my mom made it when his dad didn’t. And I get, I do, I just wish there was something I could do to help him, you know? To make it so he isn’t so alone.

“And it got me thinking that his house is really big for just one guy and so is yours so maybe… maybe you should go be around each other. Not permanently, but just for a little while. I just think that maybe you two are the only ones who can understand what the other is feeling so maybe you can make each other feel a bit less… alone, I guess.” By the time he finished what he was saying, Scott was fidgeting uncomfortably and staring at his feet. He looked up finally to see what Derek had to say in response but just as Derek looked like he was ready to give an answer, Scott interrupted.

“Don’t… don’t tell me your answer, ok? Just think about it, and if it feels right, do it. If not, I understand and I hope you see that I was just trying to make things better. I’ll see you around.” And he turned and left, leaving Derek feeling slightly dazed as he stared out into the empty hallway.

Derek’s first instinct was to go back into his room and continue with whatever it was he had been doing before Scott had gotten there, but the idea of walking back into his empty house was becoming more overwhelming by the second. After a moment of uncertainty he finally had to conclude that what Scott was saying made sense. On top of that, he remembered what it was like to lose his parents and he couldn’t stand the idea of Stiles –funny, kind, witty, ridiculous Stiles –feeling the way that he did. So instead he grabbed his jacket and went out to the car, only stopping to look at the picture of younger Cora one more time before driving to the Stilinski house.

When he got there he found that the door was unlocked and so he pushed it open as quietly as possible until he was able to get inside. The first thing he noticed was the stack of food on the kitchen counter with various notes of condolences placed around them. He suppressed a shudder at the familiar scene and forced himself to keep walking until he finally reached the stairs and then Stiles’ room.

He knocked lightly on the door but didn’t hear a response. Forcing his ears into wolfish sensitivity, he listened for any sound of life on the other side of the wall. He was able to pick up the sound of a frantic heartbeat and rushed breathing, and it was immediately apparent what was going on. He didn’t wait for an answer to push the door open and move quickly to where Stiles was sitting mid-panic attack.

“Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me?” he asked gently, trying to break through to the boy who had his eyes pressed tightly closed as he rocked himself frantically on the floor next to his bed. Derek put out a hand and rested it on Stiles’ shoulder, steadying the rocking. He knelt down so that his face was just inches away from the boy’s and began doing what Laura had done so many times for him when he had been going through the same thing.

“Stiles, I need you to breathe with me, ok? Listen to the sound of my voice and follow it. Hear the sound of my breath? That’s it, nice and steady.” He could feel Stiles’ breath slowing and for the first time in a while, felt something that resembled triumph. He couldn’t keep his pack alive, he couldn’t save his sister, but he could calm down a newly made orphan. He could help Stiles get past one of the worst times of his life. After a couple minutes of mimicking Derek’s breathing, Stiles finally was calm enough to open his eyes and see Derek crouched in front of him.

“Hey.” Was all Stiles said, his voice sounding hoarse from crying.

“Hey.” Derek answered, moving to sit beside Stiles, his back resting against the bed.

“Did Scott send you?” Stiles asked after they had been sitting in silence for a few minutes.

“No, I just thought maybe you could use a friend. I mean… I just didn’t want to stay at my house alone, and I thought you might feel the same way.” Stiles nodded, but didn’t say anything else. They sat like that for hours, neither one saying anything, both lost in their own thoughts but feeling the slightest bit better for not having to be alone while they processed. What finally broke them out of their silent states was the sound of Stiles’ stomach growling. When Derek started to get up he felt Stiles’ hand grab onto his shoulder, holding him on the ground.

“It’s a fluke, I’m not really hungry. The very thought of food is making me feel sick.”

“Stiles, you have to eat something. I know you can’t imagine it right now, but eating will actually make you feel a little better. It takes away some of the superficial emptiness.” Stiles nodded for a moment, considering what Derek said and then answered,

“Alright, but you don’t have to go anywhere, I’ll just order a pizza or something.” Derek shook his head instantly.

“Trust me, you don’t want to eat anything you like… it will never taste the same way again. Take it from a guy who hasn’t had chocolate cake in ten years.”  
Stiles paused again, considering what Derek was saying. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember much of the time after his mom died; it was all just a big blur. He distantly recalled a lot of ramen soup –it had been the only thing his dad knew how to make for a while. He never liked ramen, he had just been too nice to mention it, and so it never bothered him that after those first couple weeks they never ate it anymore. He finally had to come to the conclusion that what Derek was saying made sense.

“What are we going to eat then?” Stiles asked, his voice full of exhausted resignation.

“Have you seen your kitchen? There’s enough food there to feed a small army. I’m sure I can find something that both tastes OK but won’t be missed too much later on… I’ll be right back, ok?”

Stiles wanted to tell him to stay, that he was afraid that the moment Derek left he would be swallowed whole by the loneliness again, but he knew it sounded pathetic. Even as broken as he was, he was hyperaware of what Derek thought of him and he couldn’t stand Derek seeing how weak he was in that moment. So instead he just nodded and hoped that Derek understood that he needed him to hurry back. Derek must’ve have gotten the message because just as he reached the door he turned around and gave Stiles a half-smile and said,

“I’ll be right back. It should only take a second. Call if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Derek.” Stiles whispered when Derek was already out of the room and going down the steps toward the kitchen.

With Derek gone, Stiles was able to think about the situation a little more carefully. His mind was still numb with pain and tears were constantly threatening at the edge of his vision, but despite that he couldn’t help but wonder what Derek was doing there. Derek being there helped a lot, but Stiles knew that he must be hurting too, it must be killing him to have to take care of some kid when he was every bit as wounded. Just thinking about it, Stiles wanted to call Derek back and tell him he could go home, that he was fine and could take care of himself –but he knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t know what he would have done had Derek not found him when he did. He had never heard of anyone dying from a panic attack, but knowing his luck he wouldn’t be surprised if he was the first. Stiles was pulled from his reverie by the sound of light footsteps and a knock on the door.

Derek pushed open the door with his knee while balancing a tray stacked with food on his arms.

“I didn’t know what you wanted so I grabbed some different things and hopefully one of them sounds ok to you. I hope you don’t mind, I found some apple juice in the fridge and I thought maybe you might like it more than water… I just want to make this as easy as possible.” Derek said awkwardly, placing the tray in front of Stiles and then sinking beside him on the ground. Stiles could hear the unspoken words in what Derek was saying; he just didn’t want to fail anyone else. Stiles tried to give him a smile but instead managed something akin to a twitch. He then began looking through the food to find something that looked vaguely consumable.

“I’m sorry, I’m really not hungry.” He said after a minute of searching.

“Stiles-” Derek’s voice sounded strained and it was that stress that forced Stiles to pick up a fork and plunge it into what he thought was chicken casserole. Stiles stared at the blob at the end of his fork for a moment before actually putting it into his mouth. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The flavor wasn’t terrible and the warmth felt good as it settled into his stomach. It almost felt like it could heat him from the inside out. He washed it down with a swig of apple juice, more for Derek’s benefit than his own.

“You should eat something Derek.” Stiles meant for it to sound mocking as he was really just repeating Derek’s word back to him, but all the teasing had disappeared from Stiles’ voice and instead it sounded like an exhausted plea. Derek nodded and reached a slightly trembling hand to pick up a fork and then began joining Stiles in mechanically eating the chicken casserole. Each swallow felt a little bit easier until he could almost taste the flavor of the dish, though it seemed to be far away and mattered very little.

When they finished they stared at each other in silence, neither one sure what to say next. Eventually Derek cleaned away the food and sat cross-legged in front of Stiles, not quite pressuring him into conversation but slightly hopeful that it would invoke some sort of verbal response. Derek had never seen Stiles talk so little or sit so still and it was incredibly unnerving. Derek’s mind wandered over memories and thoughts and he found himself zoning out, lost in his own world. When he came back to reality he realized that Stiles’ eyes were pooling with silent tears and his breath was becoming shakier by the minute.

“H-Hey, shh… you’re ok. You’re going to be ok, Stiles.” Derek said, moving to sit beside Stiles and pulling him in closer to his body. This had the opposite of the desired effect and the tears began to pour faster from his eyes.

“I-I’m an Or-Orph—“ Derek cut him off quickly.

“Don’t say it yet. Not… not yet. You don’t have to say it now. In time, you will have to learn how to say it, and more importantly how to not let it define you. But today, today you’re just Stiles. Keep that as long as you can, ok?” Stiles nodded, his head rubbing against Derek’s sleeve.

“Derek… Derek, what am I going to do? Without… without my dad, what am I going to do?” Sobs wracked Stiles’ entire body and Derek did his best to hold him steady, trying to add some stability to the boy who was clearly falling apart. Derek knew Stiles was waiting for an answer and finally he gave him the only one he had.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together, ok? I won’t let anything happen to you, we just have to figure it out together.” To Derek’s surprise, this seemed to calm Stiles down somewhat. The difference wasn’t huge, but there was a slight slowing of breath and his trembling calmed down faintly.


	2. Life's for the Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek feel like everything is his fault despite Isaac and Stiles trying to convince him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankfully, this has become super AU. In this version, Derek is still an Alpha. Also, Mr. Argent ended up in the hospital after nearly being sacrificed by the Darach. 
> 
> Title is from the song "Life's for the Living" by Passenger.

Derek held Stiles until his whimpers died down and he was finally asleep. Though Derek was glad that Stiles was finally in some peace-like state, it left him unsure of what to do next. His first order of business was to get Stiles into bed, it wasn’t terribly difficult as Derek was strong and Stiles wasn’t especially heavy for his age. Derek contemplated getting the boy into pajamas but decided that it would be much too awkward to explain in the morning, and instead settled for pulling off his sneakers and pulling up the blankets to encompass him. When he was satisfied with his work, Derek stood up straight and stretched, finally able to extend his whole body for the first time in hours –not that he minded.

With this final task done, Derek wasn’t entirely sure what his next order of business should be. He didn’t even consider going back to his house; at least for a little while, the Stilinski house would be his permanent residence. Derek wasn’t stupid, he knew that he should go to sleep too, but he wasn’t sure where to go. The sheriff’s room was obviously off limits and he wasn’t really comfortable getting into bed with the unconscious Stiles, which left only the sofa downstairs.

While this made sense from a practical point of view, Derek couldn’t help but be worried about leaving Stiles alone. He was especially worried that the boy would wake up and think that Derek had left him and gone home. Finally, he settled for writing a simple note of “Downstairs –D” on a post-it note and tacking it on the wall in front of Stiles’ bed.

At last Derek was free to sleep after a long and exhausting day full of more emotions than Derek had thought himself capable of. He was surprised to find that the sofa wasn’t that uncomfortable, even without certain amenities like pillows and blankets which he had been too scared to search for. Before lying down he had felt shockingly awake and thought it would be impossible to fall asleep, but once he was settled he felt the full weight of everything that had happened, all the exhaustion crashed down on him and he was asleep within minutes.

***

            Stiles woke from a dreamless sleep and for a brief moment forgot about everything that had happened. When he finally did remember, it hit him with such a force that he had to consciously focus his breathing and wait a few minutes for the near-episode to pass. With the episode came a reminder of the events of the previous day followed by the obvious question –where was Derek? For an instant Stiles thought that he had gone and suddenly he was alone in the giant house, until a post-it note informed him that that was not the case. With this information in mind, he crept out of his room and down the stairs as quietly as he could.

            Staring at Derek while he slept, Stiles recalled the cliché that stated that “people look more peaceful when they sleep” and determined that the statement was bogus. Even in sleep, Derek’s face pinched and contorted while he moved spastically, twisting where he lay. At first, Stiles wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do then. He didn’t want to be creepy and watch him, but at the same time he didn’t feel like going back to his room. Conveniently, Derek made it easy for him when his dream took a turn for the worst and he started talking,

            “Cora?” He said, the name coming out like a whine. Then louder, “Cora? Where… Come back! Stop! What’s… happening? Cora!”

            Stiles waited to see if the nightmare would stop on its own and when it didn’t he decided Derek would probably rather be awake and not having a nightmare, than well rested and stuck in his terror. As gently as he could, Stiles reached out a hand shook Derek’s shoulder. There was little change, and if anything it only made Derek’s speaking louder. Stiles took a deep breath and shoved Derek with as much force as he could muster -the result was instant. Derek sat bolt upright, fangs bared and claws out. Stiles barely managed to jump away in time to not be hit by Derek’s outstretched claws.

            “What the…?” Derek asked, clearly unsure of his surroundings. He then turned and saw Stiles, a look of terror on his face, and it all came rushing back to him.

            “Easy there, big guy… You were having a nightmare so I took it upon myself to end your misery.” The words sounded like something Stiles would say, but Stiles was still not quite himself so instead of sounding fluid the words came out awkward and disjointed. The difference in speech was clear to both of them, but Stiles’ only response was to shift on his feet and rub his hand against the back of his neck.

            “Right… thanks for that. Sorry about the… you know… claws and stuff.” Though it should have made the situation more uncomfortable, Stiles was glad that Derek sounded every bit as awkward as he did. The state of things was one that neither of them could have ever predicted, so it almost seemed natural that everything was equally strange and raw sounding.

            “I’m going to go make coffee, want some?” Stiles asked, after they had been sitting there for a sufficient amount of time feeling uncomfortable.

            “Yeah, that would be great.”

            “How do you take it?”

“Black—” Before he could continue talking, Stiles interrupted him by saying,

“Please don’t add a cheesy one liner like ‘black, like my soul’ or something… those always make me feel embarrassed for the speaker.” Derek smiled, the first real, genuine smile he had had in weeks. The line was not anything special, but it sounded the closest to the old Stiles out of everything he had said in the past twenty-four hours.

            “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Was all Derek said in response. He then followed Stiles into the kitchen and while Stiles started up the coffee machine, Derek began putting some of the food away. At first it seemed odd, both of them standing in Stiles’ kitchen, Stiles making coffee and Derek putting away the pity-food. In the safety of Stiles’ own mind, he had to admit that the whole scene seemed strangely _domestic_. He quickly forced that thought out of his mind, chalking it up to exhaustion and the over-stimulating emotions.

            It wasn’t long until their simple morning turned abruptly complicated. There was light knocking at the door that sounded strangely hesitant. Stiles’ face looked deeply uncomfortable in regards to the intrusion, so Derek took it upon himself to open the door. Waiting behind the wooden barrier was a tired and stressed looking Isaac. His normally perfect head of curls was sticking up at all ends and even his clothing looked less put together than usual.

            When the door swung open, the surprise was immediately apparent on Isaac’s face. He and Derek had not spoken since Isaac had yelled at him for not doing his part to help the rest of the pack get rid of Jennifer and the Alphas. Their eyes had met a couple times at the funerals, but each time Isaac immediately looked anywhere else.

            “H-hey Derek.” Isaac said, his voice betraying his confusion.

            “Isaac.” Derek said with a nod, by way of greeting. They stood like that for a couple moments before Derek finally caved and said, “You’re probably looking for Stiles. Do you want me to go and get him?”

            “No…uh… this is better, actually. Two birds, one stone… and all that. I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you for a while, but it never really seemed like the right time. Could we maybe go outside or something?” Derek hesitated. He wasn’t angry with Isaac, though it was clear that Isaac was still unaware of this fact. The real problem was that Derek just didn’t have any more room for a single added emotion and speaking to Isaac would inevitably force something out of him.

            “No.” Derek answered. Isaac’s face fell quickly and he opened his mouth to speak, but Derek cut him off. “I’m worried about Stiles… I don’t want to leave the house just yet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we found a place to have a private conversation inside… If that’s ok with you.” Isaac perked up and Derek couldn’t help but be reminded of how young Isaac always looked. It was like the kid didn’t age and was forever stuck as a young child, and even then he only ever bounced between being that age on Christmas morning and that age on the day he had to flush a fish in the toilet. There was no middle ground for Isaac.

            “Yeah… that would be great!” Derek moved out of the doorframe, granting Isaac permission to enter the house. Stiles was no longer downstairs, so Derek assumed he had overheard enough bits and pieces of the conversation to go to his room and grant them privacy.

            “Derek, I am so so sorry! You have to believe me, I— ” Derek cut him off quickly.

            “You have nothing to apologize for. You were right. I did fall for… it was all my fault.” The last bit came out tired and matter-of-fact, sounding more like a mantra than an actual statement.

            “No, Derek, just listen to me. I was way out of line saying those things to you. I know you would never intentionally hurt us. You had no way of knowing. Hell, I thought she was a great English teacher! It’s not your fault that she used you. And I know what you’re thinking, even if you hadn’t fallen for it, you still helped her through Paige… you were a kid, Derek. Plain and simple. You had no way of knowing that you were being manipulated by Peter, no way of knowing she wouldn’t survive… There was nothing you could have done.

“Stop punishing yourself, and especially don’t punish yourself through me. We lived together for a while, Derek. I know you. I know that you replay what I said to you and use it as yet another weapon against yourself, but I take it back. Don’t use me to hurt you anymore than I already have. I want you to know… I want you to know that you are an amazing Alpha and friend and I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me. I’m proud to be part of your pack and even if you don’t think we’re a pack anymore, you’re wrong… it’s just going to take some time for you to see it.”

By the time Isaac was done his eyes were red and his face was streaked with tears. Derek had never been confronted with so many emotions in his life and it took everything he had to keep his face remaining blank and stoic. When Isaac finally paused long enough for Derek to interject, rather than responding verbally he pulled the crying boy into a tight embrace. He had missed Isaac more than he let himself believe. It was a long time before Isaac’s tears died down and he pulled away from the Alpha.

            “Do you think it would totally freak Stiles out if I went up to his room looking like this?” Isaac asked, gesturing to his face, which was still red from crying.

            “So long as you don’t tell him I made you cry, I think we should be good.” Derek answered, hoping his nonchalance made it look like he was keeping it together better than he actually was.

            “Haha, that’s exactly it. I’ll just go tell Stiles you beat me up, that way I don’t look like the idiot I really am.”

            “You’re not so bad, Isaac.” Derek replied in earnest. Isaac responded with a small smile, finally at peace with the little affection that let him know everything was going to be ok.

***

            The talk between Isaac and Stiles had been awkward. Not that it was Isaac’s fault, there really just wasn’t an easy way to say, “I am an orphan and I recognize that you too are an orphan. Also, I want to be there for you but I’m not really sure how because I was kinda happy when my dad died ‘cuz the dude was a total dick.” Somehow they didn’t make a hallmark card for that. Instead the conversation moved slowly and while Stiles was glad for the company and the distraction it provided, he was relieved when Isaac left.

            “That was…”

            “Uncomfortable.” Stiles finished for Derek, allowing his body to relax back into apathy-mode now that Isaac was gone.

            “He was trying his best…”

            “Yeah, I know. I just… am not really up for it, I guess.” Stiles actually groaned when he heard the doorbell ring only a few seconds later. To his immense relief, Derek took the hint and stood up saying,

            “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Stiles decided to add that to the ever-growing list of reasons he was glad Derek was there. He walked towards the edge of the staircase, not quite in view of whoever was as the door, but close enough to hear what they were saying. It took less than a fraction of a second for Stiles to recognize Lydia’s voice.

            “Oh… Hey, Derek. Wasn’t expecting you.” Stiles almost laughed at the grunt Derek gave in response. “I baked cookies, well… they’re from Allison and me. She would have come too but she hasn’t left her dad’s side since he’s been in the hospital. Is Stiles around?”

            “You know… he’s actually asleep right now, maybe tomorrow?” Stiles could practically hear Lydia pouting as she decided whether or not to trust what Derek was saying. After a while he heard her sigh of resignation and the door closing, much to his relief.

            “Thanks for that.” He said, as Derek spotted him at the top of the steps.

            “Yeah… uh, it’s no big deal.”

            “So, I couldn’t help but notice you slept on the couch last night… we’ll figure out something better for tonight -if you’re still staying.” He added the last bit as a frantic afterthought and Derek could hear Stiles’ heart beginning to race.

            “Of course I’ll still be here. I mean, I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.” Derek answered without hesitation.

            “Well, if that’s the case, make yourself at home. You know, do whatever you would normally do. You seem like a morning shower kind of guy so… bathroom’s through there, towels are on the rack, I trust you can handle it from there.” Stiles wanted to kick himself for how awkward it sounded. He basically just commanded Derek to take a shower. He wasn’t even sure what he meant by it -he was just relieved to hear that Derek wasn’t leaving.

            “Right, I’ll do that. Let me know if you need anything.” Stiles watched Derek walk towards the bathroom and decided to occupy his time with television while he waited. Some part of his mind couldn’t help thinking about the fact that Derek Hale was in his house naked. Admittedly it wasn’t quite the circumstances he imagined the situation in, but it was still an interesting twist in his reality.

            Stiles couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to whatever it was he had playing on the TV and his gaze drifted to the pictures on the shelves. He had avoided looking at them for the past week, but finally he didn’t have the will power to resist anymore. One of his Mom and Dad’s wedding pictures had fallen over and the symbolism implied by the universe was so obvious that Stiles couldn’t help but jump out of his chair, and sprint to the shelf to fix it. The rational part of Stiles’ mind told him to go get a ladder or at the very least a stool, but the stubborn and desperate side of him told him it had to be fixed _now_.

He put his foot on the lowest shelf and with that came a flooding of memories from the last time he’d done this. Stiles had been nine when his dad walked in on him trying to climb up the shelves. The Sheriff had been so pissed and had yelled at Stiles for what seemed like hours. Stiles found out later that that was the day his parents found out his mom was sick. Once he learned that, the screaming didn’t seem like such an overreaction.

Stiles eyes filled with tears as he recalled it all with perfect clarity. His vision blurred making it more difficult, but he still couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not until he finally reached the top and flipped the picture back over did he allow himself to pause for a breath. Everything was fine for a minute, but soon enough Stiles heard the wood creak and groan beneath him, unable to climb down fast enough before it gave. Pictures crashed around him along with splintered wood and Stiles could feel the shards ripping into him as he fell.

Stiles lay on the ground for a moment, the only thought going through his mind being, “wow, my dad was right, that is dangerous.” Finally he forced himself up and inspected his body for damage. It was mostly just light scrapes and bruises -luckily no glass seemed to have imbedded itself- with the only exception being his chest, which had taken the worst hit. Rather than falling backwards, the wood breaking had forced Stiles forward and into the wood, leaving his chest and stomach to slide down against the now-ruined shelving unit. Stiles had nearly forgotten about Derek until the man came sprinting into the room, only a towel on for cover.

“Stiles! Stiles, are you ok?” Derek had begun asking the question before he had entered the room, but his voice cut off immediately at the sight of the injured boy and ruined furniture. Derek took a step forward and raised his hand to lift up Stiles’ shirt, only to find air as the boy took a step back. Suddenly Derek remembered what a leap he had made by coming and staying with Stiles. Only a few weeks ago Derek had been threatening him and forcing him into walls, now here he was trying to act comforting. Still, Derek took a breath and said,

“Stiles… I’m not going to hurt you. Let me look, I need to see that you’re ok.” The earnest pleading of it made Stiles want to sprint in the opposite direction, far away from this strange sincerity.

“Yeah… sorry, it’s just not every day a semi-naked werewolf tries to take my clothes off. Kinda caught me off guard.” In the stress of the moment, Derek had temporarily forgotten his clothing situation –or lack thereof. At the same time, he refused to change a thing until he was positive that Stiles was ok.

“Stiles, I’m serious. Are you hurt?”

“Just a few scrapes, it’s really no big deal.” Despite the obvious dismissal in the statement, Stiles still walked forward close enough for Derek to peel back his shirt. He tried to get an idea for the severity of his injuries from Derek’s face, but as usual it remained impassive. Derek lifted the shirt so gingerly that Stiles was almost convinced the Alpha was possessed. Stiles had never seen Derek be gentle before except with Cora. It was odd, like seeing a friend who always wore glasses and suddenly switched to contacts. You knew it was the same person, but they were _off_ somehow as though the absence of glasses almost changed who they were.

“I’m going to pull on some clothes and then we’ll get this taken care of, knowing your… talent for getting injured, I’m sure you have a first-aid kit somewhere.” Stiles couldn’t be offended by what Derek said because it was completely true; and aside from that, any energy that would be used to fuel emotion was working to keep Stiles’ eyes trained on Derek’s face, and not his naked body.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it. I assume you remember where the clothes are, Miguel?” Derek made a disgruntled face at the nickname, but the moment Stiles turned to get the first-aid kit he allowed a small smile creep onto his face as the memory came back to him.

Derek found that Stiles clothes didn’t feel as small on him anymore and he wondered if it was because he hadn’t really eaten since Cora got sick or if Stiles had gotten more muscular. In the end he settled on it being a combo of the two. While he waited for Stiles to return with the kit, Derek looked around the room, taking it all in. His eyes fell on a chessboard with little colored tabs taped to all the pieces, which he went over to inspect. He was surprised to see that everyone associated with Beacon Hills’ supernatural occurrences had a piece on the board.

“Cora and I were explaining it to my dad… you know, before everything went to hell.” Stiles said as he walked into the room. Derek had been distracted by the strange chessboard and hadn’t heard the boy coming.

“That was the day she…” Derek didn’t need to finish the sentence for Stiles to know what he was talking about –it had been the day Cora was admitted to the hospital and the last day she had been fully conscious.

“Yeah… my dad too. I mean… it was the last time I saw him before…” Derek nodded and they both stood in silence for a moment, each consumed with their own thoughts. Derek was the first one to speak,

“Go sit on the bed, let’s get you sorted out.” Stiles obeyed quickly as Derek went to the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water. Derek wasn’t entirely sure where to start, but Stiles made it easy by handing him the kit and in doing so, subtly offering him his arm. They didn’t speak as Derek worked his way up Stiles’ arm, first cleaning the cuts and then covering them with Neosporin and Band-Aids, the only sound came from Stiles who occasionally sucked in air when he wasn’t expecting the pain.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you.” Derek said, after it had been ten minutes of silence.

“What for? You came here, remember? I should be thanking you… and by that I mean, thank you. Thanks for everything.” Stiles answered, his eyes looking to where Derek’s hands were still cleaning cuts but his voice referring to everything that had happened since Derek got there.

“That’s not what I mean… I came here as much for myself as I did for you. What I was referring to was… I never really got the chance to thank you for everything you did to save her. And even when she wasn’t that nice all the time, you were always so nice to her. You couldn’t possibly understand how much it meant to her to have you treat her like… like she wasn’t an outsider –a stranger who dropped in out of nowhere.

 “And then that night at the hospital, the way you protected her… There’s nothing I could possibly do to show you how grateful I am for that. I could smell you on her, when we got back to the house… I knew what happened, it was kind of obvious… I just never knew what to say to you.” Stiles didn’t say what he was thinking: that it didn’t make a difference. That she still died despite his best efforts to keep her alive. Just as he was about to respond, Derek continued,

“And I can’t imagine how much you must hate me. How it must kill you to know that I’m here in your house, trying to comfort you when what’s going on is all my fault. I was… lonely, and your dad died as a result. I’m so sorry, you could never know how sorry I am—” Stiles cut Derek off and used his newly bandage-covered hand to push Derek’s chin up until he had no choice but to look at Stiles with his tear-filled eyes.

“Hey, I don’t blame you. How could you possibly think that? You may have fed some stupid tree –another incident that wasn’t your fault- but you weren’t the one that turned Jennifer into a killer. You didn’t rip her face apart and leave her for dead. Jennifer killed my dad because she’s a psychopath, and that has nothing to do with you. Your only fault is being human enough to fall for someone who was nice to you and gave you no reason not to trust her. I’m sorry the universe keeps hurting you through the people you fall in love with. I promise you, one day you will find someone you can trust and you will learn that love doesn’t have to be that way. You just have to heal a bit first, both of us do… But we’re going to be ok, you and I.”

Stiles was shocked by how much he had to say on the matter and he was positive that was the most he’d said in weeks. At the same time, he meant every word of it.

“You couldn’t possibly know that.” Derek said, clearly unconvinced of the first part as well, but only responding to the second.

“You know how I have a very keen sense for evil? I’m sure Scott’s told you. Well, it’s the same for romantic fate.” Derek didn’t dare mention that this could not be the case, given Stiles’ lack of relationship with Lydia. Instead he allowed himself a small smile at just how _Stiles_ the statement sounded. Despite his doubts on the validity of Stiles senses, for a moment he allowed himself to believe what Stiles was saying. Just for a second he smiled and let Stiles words fill his mind: _We’re going to be ok,_ he thought to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know that Isaac is not part of this relationship, but I hate that they didn't resolve his and Derek's fight. Sorry this took so long, I was on a trip with my family and then school started. If it's any consolation, I have written detailed outlines through chapter 6 so they shouldn't take too long. Sorry if this seemed like kind of a filler, I wanted to skip over the awkward beginning stuff but i couldn't bring myself to do it. I promise if you stick with it, the next chapters are much more eventful! I love Kudos and Comments but either way thank you SOOO much for reading, it really means a lot to me!


	3. Can't Go Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes back to school. Shameless fluff and angst ensue.
> 
> Title comes from the song "Can't Go Back Now" by The Weepies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Maya for beta reading. You can find her on tumblr and AO3 as: Superwholock22 . She is amazing and did not make me wait long for her edits (literally, like not even 2 hours). I don't think there are any trigger-inducing things here, but if you disagree just let me know and I will add them ASAP.

“Stiles, you have to go to school.” Derek said for the millionth time. It had been two months since Derek and Stiles started living together. The school had been trying to give Stiles space, but they eventually started leaving less-than-subtle messages asking when Stiles would be returning. He had mostly kept up with schoolwork, thanks to Lydia who brought it to him, but he needed to start going if he wanted to graduate with his friends. Stiles had been telling Derek for a week that Monday would be his first day of school… but now that Monday was here Stiles was putting up a serious fight against it.

“Tomorrow… I swear.” Stiles said, his voice filling with desperation.

“Look, I’m not--” Derek had to stop himself from saying _your father_ and instead finished with, “…in charge of you. You can do whatever you want, but I think you need to go. More than that, I think you want to go and are ready to go, but you want to fight it because you’re scared. I get it, believe me, but we have to start living again. I’m going to go start my new job today too. If you really don’t want to go, I can’t force you, but I really think you should reconsider.”

“You’re right, I can do this.” Stiles said, not sounding at all convinced. He took another steadying breath and grabbed his backpack from his desk. Derek took it as a sign to lead the way down the stairs. Once there, he handed Stiles a sizable stack of pancakes and a brown paper bag. They had slowly begun eating foods they liked again and Derek quickly learned that Stiles was a pancake fiend.

“What’s this?” Stiles asked, indicating the plate and bag Derek was attempting to shove in his hands.

“I made you food… you know, for school.” Derek shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Did you wake up early and make pancakes? And lunch?” Stiles questioned. Despite that being the only rational explanation, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“Don’t sound so amazed, it really wasn’t a big deal. I read somewhere that you focus better when you’re not hungry, and if you recall I went to Beacon Hills High, I know how terrible the cafeteria food is.”

“Let me guess, you were nervous about your job and woke up early and didn’t know what to do with the time. Thanks man, this is great.” Derek nodded, latching onto Stiles’ explanation before his mouth could betray him and say what really happened. Hell would freeze over before he told Stiles that he had woken up panicked about _Stiles_ going back to school and had been too restless to go back to sleep.

“Yeah, like I said, it’s no big deal. I can drive you… unless you want to take the bus or something.”

“No! I mean… if you don’t mind, I would really appreciate it if you could take me.” It had taken a while for Derek to get all of the Sheriff’s blood out of Stiles’ jeep, but even after it was gone Stiles hadn’t been able to get back in. Derek didn’t blame him, but whenever he suggested Stiles trade it for a new car Stiles was adamant about not getting rid of his baby. It hadn’t been an issue when he had nowhere to go, but Derek wondered what would happen as school started and Stiles began getting back into the swing of things. In the mean time, Derek had no problem being the kid’s temporary chauffeur.

“I don’t mind. Go put your stuff in the trunk, I’ll grab the keys and meet you in the car.” Stiles nodded and headed out the door. The second Stiles was out, Derek took a deep steadying breath to stop the panic that was building in his chest. _Get yourself together, Hale. You are not a mom on the first day of school. He’s going to be fine. Everything is going to go smoothly and you’re going to feel like an idiot for acting like such a whack-job for nothing._ Once he had sufficiently bullied himself into a calmer state, Derek grabbed the keys and was out the door.

The ride was uneventful, with Stiles fidgeting constantly and Derek fighting the urge to call the whole thing off and drive Stiles home. When they finally reached the school, Derek gripped Stiles’ arm tightly and tried to give him his best reassuring smile.

“Knock ‘em dead. Call me if you need anything.” Derek said, trying his best not to let any emotion seep into his voice.

“Yeah, ditto. I’ll see you on the other side, I guess.” And then Stiles was out the door and walking towards the school. When he was certain Stiles wouldn’t turn around, Derek whipped out his phone and texted Isaac,

>>Just dropped him off, keep an eye on him.

>>Will do. Relax, I can hear your heartbeat from here. His too. It’s going to be fine.

>>Call me if anything happens

>>Chill, you know I will. Go to work, you look creepy staring at the school from your car.

            Derek felt better knowing his beta would be there as backup for Stiles. He had already made an arrangement with Isaac promising that Isaac would be there at the front of school every day to walk with Stiles to homeroom and any classes they had together. Stiles wasn’t stupid, he would figure it out soon enough, but Derek was hopeful that a familiar face would make things a bit easier for his first couple days back.

***

            The first person Stiles ran into upon getting into the school was Isaac. Stiles almost didn’t notice him, all his attention focused on keeping his breath steady, but Isaac finally managed a cough loud enough to get Stiles’ attention.

            “Hey, welcome back.” Isaac said, a warm smile plastered on his face.

            “Thanks, man.” Stiles responded, clearly not yet able to manage small talk. If Stiles was surprised when Isaac didn’t leave his side all the way to homeroom, he didn’t show it. They exchanged nods when Isaac finally had no choice but to leave him at the door and go to his own homeroom.

            Stiles had forgotten how empty his homeroom felt without Erica. It had been odd when she first went missing and infinitely worse when they knew for sure that she was dead. Now it all came back to him and he remembered just how much was lost in the last couple of months. The more he thought about it the tighter his chest felt and soon it felt like he was losing the ability to breathe. Before he knew what was going on, Scott appeared at the door and walked briskly over to where Stiles was seated.

            “Stiles…” Scott clearly had no idea what he was supposed to say. What do you say to your best friend you haven’t spoken to in months because you failed them so miserably? And how do you not-creepily tell them you were listening for their breathing and were worried when it’s frequency changed?

            “Hey.” Stiles said, quickly gaining control of his breath.

            “You’re back.” Scott noted after a moment.

            “Nothing gets past you.” Stiles responded bitterly. He regretted the comment instantly as Scott’s face fell and tried to backpedal. “I mean… yeah. I’m back. It’s… it’s good to see you.”

            “Yeah, you too. I’ve missed you.” Scotts voice seemed choked with emotion and more than anything Stiles wished there was some way for him to reach out to his friend –his _brother_ \- and make everything go back to normal. It wasn’t possible though, so instead he sat there quietly until the teacher walked in and Scott was forced to go back to his own homeroom.

            Classes passed slowly and had someone asked Stiles what they were learning in any of them he would have had no idea what to answer with. The worst part of being in class was having to endure the looks and whispers from the other students.

The official story was that Jennifer Blake had been a delusional psychopath trying to start her own cult and had hoped to attract attention through human sacrifices. On more than one occasion Stiles heard whispers of “Can you believe his dad was a legit human sacrifice? It’s like a freaking horror film.” Or worse, the one word that set his teeth on edge more than anything else, “orphan.” 

Stiles had nearly forgotten that just because it felt like everything was different, some things did stay the same. This became painfully clear when he realized that his English classroom hadn’t changed. He paused outside the door and felt his breath hitch. Lydia showed up soon enough and so did Scott, both of them realizing what the room meant to Stiles. It had been the last place he had seen his dad, only able to look in through the small window in the door, completely helpless. He had stood at the window with Scott and looked past the shattered glass screaming for his dad months earlier, but to his memory it could have been minutes ago.

“Dude, we can ditch this period.” Scott said after they’d all been standing there for a minute.

 “Yeah Stiles, no one would blame you. You’re almost as smart as me anyway, it’s not like you need to go.” Lydia added, trying to keep the tone light.

“No… no, I’m good… just give me a second.” Stiles had been planning on ditching, but the second someone suggested it the idea sounded weak, like he was running away. Either way, it wasn’t like he could avoid it forever, may as well rip off the Band-Aid. At least, that’s what he told himself as he took one final deep breath and entered the place of his nightmares.

Most other kids were already seated but Stiles was amused to find that his usual spot next to Scott was still open. He wondered if people were just being nice because word had gotten around that he was back, or if it had really remained empty since he had stopped going to school. The window had been fixed and there was a new teacher standing at the front of the room, but Stiles could still feel Jennifer there, could still feel the darkness that had settled over the classroom.

Scott and Lydia shared a worried glance as they noticed how Stiles’ hands gripped the sides of his desk so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Other kids seemed to be noticing too and Scott wanted to yell at all of them to mind their own damn business. The teacher had been warned ahead of time and thankfully did not mention it. To Stiles’ credit, he was clearly doing his best to act natural and relax into his surroundings. By the middle of the class, Stiles almost looked like everyone else. It wasn’t like he was the only kid not paying attention, not by a long shot.

Things changed very suddenly when Stiles dropped his pencil beside his desk. He bent down to pick it up when his eyes caught a strangely red stain on the ground _. Calm down_ , he said to himself. _That could be anything. Juice, or highlighter ink, or someone’s red pen broke… they wouldn’t just leave his blood on the ground… would they? Sure, he was stabbed in this very room, but there are probably tons of suspicious stains in this classroom. Don’t panic, it’s not his blood. Don’t panic. Breathe, come on dammit, breathe!_

Stiles did his best to steady his breathing but finally he couldn’t handle it anymore and sprinted from the classroom. Scott and Lydia didn’t even bother to ask for permission before following him. All three raced down the hallway and straight to the locker room, Isaac caught up a few seconds later after having heard Stiles’ heartbeat become erratic.

The moment they entered the room, Stiles collapsed to the ground, his breath coming out in loud wheezes. He could hear it in his head, everything that had happened that day. For one of the many times since his dad’s death, Stiles played their last conversation in his head wondering why he had said what he did _. I’m listening Stiles! I have been listening!_ _… Mom would’ve believed me._

 Stiles felt his breath pick up faster and desperately tried to regain control, but no matter what he did he couldn’t stop the thoughts once they’d started. Of course his dad hadn’t believed, Stiles should have understood… should have given him time… should have made him stay home so they could talk about it… should have told him earlier so they could have discussed it when they weren’t in the middle of a freaking battle… should’ve…should’ve…should’ve…

Scott was the first one to come forward and try to help, while Isaac backed out of the room quietly.

“Hey, calm down. Everything is ok… or well, as ok is anything gets around here… Just, calm down.” Scott tried to remember if Stiles had said anything to him when he’d had a panic attack, but all he could remember was using asthma as a distraction and that wasn’t a valid option in this case. If anything, Stiles seemed to get more agitated after Scott finished trying to calm him down.

“Scott, stop talking! That is a perfect combination of all things you’re not supposed to say to someone when they’re panicking.” Lydia shrieked at him, clearly trying not to panic and failing.

“What do you want me to do, kiss him?” He retorted. The memory of how giddy Stiles had been when he’d told Scott what happened made Scott feel sick at the thought of how much things had changed.

“It won’t work a second time, he won’t by surprised by it. Especially not now that you’ve verbalized it. Way to go Scott.” The anger was rising in Lydia’s voice and Stiles was just about to beg them to be quiet when the sound of loud footsteps came and silenced everyone for him.

“Ok, everyone out.” Derek said, his voice using the commanding tone of the Alpha. Even though Scott was an Alpha in his own right and Lydia was human (well, banshee), the command made them both jump to their feet.

“Are you sure…?” Lydia began, clearly dubious as to how comforting Derek would be at a time like this. Little did she know, he had been doing this for months. Stiles hadn’t had a panic attack in a couple weeks, but up until then he had been having them somewhat regularly.

“Out.” This time it came out like a low growl. Derek was clearly fighting between his knowledge that Stiles needed quiet and his instinct that told him that volume would be the most affective way to get the message across. It worked and both Scott and Lydia left the room to join Isaac outside, Lydia still looking unsure and Scott looking relieved and guilty. Once they were out, Derek sat down on the ground to face Stiles.

“Hey Stiles. It’s just me. We’re ok. Can you breathe with me? Come on Stiles, just like how I’m doing it.” Derek gently gripped Stiles’ hand and placed it over his chest. At the same time, he exaggerated his breathing so that Stiles could both feel and hear when he did it. Normally this worked after a couple minutes, but somehow it didn’t seem to make any difference this time.

Derek decided it was time to change methods. He sat with his back against the lockers and then carefully pulled Stiles into the “V” of his legs. Once there, he wrapped his arms around Stiles in what he hoped was a comforting embrace. This way Stiles could feel Derek’s breath with his whole body and know that he was safe in someone’s arms.

After Stiles’ first panic attack, Derek had looked up what to do incase it happened again and learned that you aren’t supposed to touch people when they’re mid-panic. He asked Stiles about it one night, mainly to apologize for possibly making it worse, but Stiles had just shaken his head. He told Derek that when certain people touched him, he actually found it comforting. He was very tactile and having the people he trusted touch him made him feel safe and grounded. For this reason, Derek hoped that holding him in the locker room would help Stiles recalibrate.

“Stiles... shhh… Stiles, it’s ok. I’m here, I’ve got you. We can stay here as long as you need. Everything is fine.” As Derek spoke he looked up and saw the shower, which gave him an idea. In his mind he imagined that the warmth would be comforting, and the steam and water would force Stiles to hold his breath. On a purely logical front, this made sense. On the other hand, this could also send Stiles further into panic as his body was assaulted in a different way. “Stiles… I want to try something, can you trust me?”

“I trust you, Derek.” Stiles’ response was immediate and came out in between his quick, panicked breaths.

“Keep listening to my breathing and try to breathe with me. I know it’s hard, but just keep trying.” With that final plea, Derek scooped Stiles up into his arms and carried the boy over to the showers. Stiles didn’t put up much of a fight when Derek carried him in the least manly way possible, not even when he realized what was going on. Instead, he curled tighter into Derek’s body and let his head fall against Derek’s shoulder.

Derek angled himself so that the water would hit him first, that way he could ease Stiles in. When he was sure that the water was at an appropriate temperature he leaned into it so that the spray would hit his body first and then trickle down to Stiles. At first Stiles heart seemed to speed up even more at the new sensation, but after a moment it gradually backed itself down.

Voluntary Apnea… that’s what Stiles had called it all those months ago. It was right after Matt drowned and Stiles had started panicking at the sight of the body. It wasn’t quite a panic attack, though, so instead he just started rambling. More than anything, that was what he had rambled about, some weird fact he knew about the body avoiding drowning. Derek had never imagined that the once-useless information would one day help him stop someone’s panic attack, and he especially never thought that someone would be Stiles.

Derek gently eased Stiles head under the water for a few seconds at a time, forcing Stiles to hold his breath as he had once explained to Derek. It only took a few minutes for Stiles’ breathing to normalize and his heart rate to slow down. That being said, the panic attack seemed to have taken a lot out of the boy, so they remained where they were for a while longer just letting the water pour over them. Finally, Stiles decided to be the one to speak first.

“Hey. Isaac call you?” He asked as Derek set him down on a bench and went to get some towels.

“He was worried about you.” Stiles nodded, unable to be annoyed because he was so relieved that Derek had been there and had known what to do. Then suddenly his expression changed back to something panicked and for a moment Derek thought he was regressing until Stiles said,

“What about your new job? You can’t just leave work early on the first day! Oh my god, please tell me I didn’t make you lose your job.”

“I wish. That would be less pathetic. I could only manage it two hours until finally I just… couldn’t. I was home when Isaac called. The manager seemed pretty understanding but… I don’t know.” Stiles smiled at the way Derek referred to his house as “home,” though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Bummer… Hey, at least you didn’t have a panic attack in front of an entire class of people and then need some random guy to come to the school to save you. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover it…”

“How could you possibly say that? You lasted so long! I-I’m really proud of you Stiles. I’m so sorry I forced you to go to school today… Maybe you were right to wait a bit longer.” Suddenly the guilt came crashing down on Derek and the familiar feeling settled like a rock in his stomach.

“No, I think it was for the best, actually. I mean… it wasn’t like I could avoid it forever. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps.” Agreed Derek. They spent a few moments in silence as they each did their best to dry off their sopping wet clothes. Finally Stiles had to ask the question that had been bothering him the most.

“How did you know to do that?”

“What do you mean? No offense, but it’s not like this was your first panic attack. I like to think I’m at least a little versed in the world of your panic.”

“No… I know that. I mean the thing with the water…”

“Oh… um… remember when you wouldn’t shut up after Matt died? At some point in that endless monologue you talked about “voluntary apnea” or at least, I think that’s what you called it.”

“You were seriously listening to that?” Stiles asked, incredulous. He had been the one saying it and even he wasn’t sure he had been listening.

“Of course, I always listen to you Stiles.” Derek said, as if the statement didn’t carry any weight with it.

“That was really impressive Derek. Thanks for… uh… listening, I guess.” Derek nodded somberly, not entirely sure how to respond to the compliment and gratitude. In the end, he decided to avoid responding to it all together.

 “So, you want to go grab your things and we can get out of here?” Derek asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Actually… I was thinking of staying. I always bring spare clothes for after practice, anyway. I’ve made it this far, right? May as well stick it out the rest of the day.” Derek couldn’t help beaming. It wasn’t like he was happy when Stiles was gone, but he was just so damn impressed that he couldn’t force on his usual scowl. Not even when he walked out of the locker room completely drenched and was forced to meet Isaac and Scott’s questioning gazes. Instead he just shrugged and kept on smiling as he walked back to his car and drove home to wait for Stiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! For every kudos and/or comment a baby unicorn is born! I don't actually know how often I'm supposed to update this so... sorry the schedule is so erratic. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: keepcalmandraisechaos.tumblr.com


	4. Sleeping Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets pneumonia, leaving a very panicked Derek and Melissa to look out for him. 
> 
> Title is based off the song of the same title by City and Colour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Maya for beta reading. You can find her on tumblr and AO3 as: Superwholock22. She is amazing and did not make me wait long for her edits (literally, like not even 2 hours). I don't think there are any trigger-inducing things here, but if you disagree just let me know and I will add them ASAP.

  

“You look pale.” Derek told Stiles for what felt like the millionth time. Stiles lifted his tired eyes for a second and tried to give Derek the best glare he could muster. The effect was cut short by Stiles letting out a long, wheezing cough.

“I’m fine.” He choked out while gasping for air.

“I’ll go grab you some water.” Derek said, jumping from his spot on the opposite end of the couch.

“Seriously, I’m fine. I’ll get it.” Stiles answered, slowly forcing his body up from its reclining position and walking to the kitchen. It killed Derek to let him do it, but he knew that Stiles needed to pretend everything was fine for a little while longer.

Derek never really got sick, but he remembered the first time he’d been shot after his parents died and he hadn’t wanted to tell Laura about it because the idea of anyone but his mom or dad helping him had been devastating. When he had finally caved and called her, everything she did reminded him of their mom and he couldn’t help but cry; not at the pain from the wound, but at the pain from the loss.

Derek was broken from his reverie by the sound of a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Before he was even aware of his own thoughts he was sprinting from the room, fangs bared. Rather than seeing an attack, he saw Stiles face-first on the ground, a shattered glass lying beside him. His fangs quickly retracted as he picked the boy up from the ground and brought him to the couch in the next room.

“Stiles! Stiles can you hear me? Oh my god Stiles, you are burning up. God you are such an idiot, why didn’t you say something sooner? Stiles? Please wake up.”

“Jesus, Sourwolf, you sure know how to wake a guy.” Stiles answered, blinking his eyes open.

“We have got to get you to a hospital. Wait here, I’ll grab my keys.” Before Derek had even finished what he was saying, Stiles was violently shaking his head.

“No, no hospitals. I won’t go, you can’t make me.” He then realized that wasn’t precisely true and changed tactics, “I mean… please, Derek?” Derek’s face looked stern as he tried to sift through his uncertain emotions. He closed his eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as the gravity of the situation began to weigh on him.

“Stiles, I can’t just let you lie here, hand you an orange juice, and assume you’re fine. You fainted for Christ’s sake! What would you have me do?” Derek was practically pleading and Stiles almost bent to his will just to take the helpless look off his face.

“Call Melissa.” He said, hoping that it was a good compromise. Derek thought about it and finally decided that if that was what Stiles wanted, he would make it happen. Without giving a verbal answer, he simply nodded his head and grabbed his phone to dial Scott’s number.

“Hey… quick question.” Derek said awkwardly into the device, “Is your mom home?” Stiles couldn’t help but let out a small bark of a laugh at Scott’s spluttering reaction in the background.

“It’s Stiles. He’s really sick but he won’t go to the hospital, this was the next best thing we could think of.” Derek continued, ignoring Stiles’ amusement. “Thanks man. Alright, talk to you later.” He hung up the phone and then turned to Stiles, “She’ll be here as fast as speed limits allow for.”

“Well geez, you didn’t need to make it sound like I was dying.” Stiles regretted the words the instant they came out of his mouth as both of their faces fell. It suddenly dawned on him how much he must look like Cora right now. She had been infinitely sicker, of course, but the idea was still there. “Hey, I’m going to be fine. It’s just a cold or something. I know that must be hard for you to understand, being a werewolf and all, but we mere humans get sick from time to time.”

Derek nodded, still not looking convinced. He was spared having to give a real response by the sound of the doorbell ringing. He got up quickly and practically ran to open it. From his spot on the couch, Stiles could hear Derek thanking Melissa profusely.

“Hey Stiles, how you feeling?” Melissa asked, as she walked to crouch beside him.

“Oh you know… been better, I guess.” As if to punctuate the statement he started coughing and didn’t stop until Derek had run to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.   

“Ok Stiles, can you please take your shirt off?” Stiles’ face turned instantly red and he involuntarily looked to Derek.

“It’s ok, I’ll leave.” Derek said, backing out of the room slowly. Before he had taken more than two steps, Stiles stopped him.

“No… it’s ok. Really, I want you to stay.” Derek breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to stand next to Stiles. He helped Stiles to pull off his t-shirt and then did his best not to stare at Stiles’ exposed chest.

“Sorry if this is a bit cold.” Melissa said as Stiles twitched away from her outstretched stethoscope. He did his best not to cough as Melissa listened but finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. As she pulled away he finally got up the nerve to ask,

“So, what do you hear?”

“Nothing good I’m afraid. Sorry Stiles.” Stiles had to bite his tongue to stop the curse from coming out of his mouth.

“Any guess as to what it is?” Derek asked, his voice sounding slightly panicked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s pneumonia, but he’ll need an x-ray to confirm it.”

“No hospitals.” Stiles said, sounding stronger than he had all morning.

“Stiles, you have to— ”

“Please,” He begged, “Don’t make me go back there. Not back to where my mom died, my dad was pronounced dead, my best friend abandoned me, I gave mouth-to-mouth to a girl who died a day later, and I nearly thought Derek was dead. Not… not back to where I had my last conversation with my dad and we fought about the existence of the things that got him killed. I just… I can’t go back there. Not yet.”

Melissa pursed her lips, clearly conflicted. Finally she nodded and said,

“I can prove it with a blood test, but I don’t have stuff like that here. Don’t you think it would be less painful to just get an x-ray?”

“I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty that nothing could be more painful than going back there.” Stiles answered, his voice barely managing to stay even. He felt Derek place a comforting hand on his shoulder and relaxed into it slightly for support.

“Ok, well, I’ll be back. I need to run by the hospital and grab some things. Will you be ok with him until I get back?” When Derek nodded she continued, “Take his temperature every twenty minutes, if it raises so much as one hundredth of a degree, call me.” She gave a stern look to Stiles and he bowed his head sheepishly. Derek nodded, this time more fervently; glad to be given a job to do. He walked Melissa out the door and then walked back to where Stiles was sitting.

“I’m going to go hunt down a thermometer, I think I saw one in the first aid kit. Melissa told me to take it every fifteen minutes.”

“I thought she said twenty.” Stiles responded in confusion.

“She changed her mind on the way out.” It was a lie, but Derek decided that a little extra caution couldn’t hurt. He was back in a minute, thermometer in hand.

“Hey- what are you… what are you doing?” Stiles asked as Derek manhandled him into a sitting position and then sat down where his head had been. He then gently coerced Stiles back down so that his upper body was resting on Derek’s lap and his head was against a pillow Derek had apparently brought from upstairs. “Oh… thanks.” Stiles said awkwardly.

“Yeah, no problem.” Derek answered, feeling his face glow red. Stiles had his shirt back on, but the memory stayed with Derek as he felt the muscles in Stiles’ back tense as he adjusted himself in Derek’s lap. Derek then brought out the thermometer and began setting up the protective cap on it.

“I can’t believe you have one of those in-ear ones, here I was thinking I would get a few moments of peace and quiet.” Derek tried to joke but his fear was evident in every word.

“Yeah, my dad finally caved and got a fancy one when I was nine because I refused to shut up long enough for him to get a clear reading from the other thermometer.” Derek nodded, having already expected this answer and clearly focused on the task at hand. Finally, he placed the device in Stiles’ ear and waited. Almost immediately it began beeping and turned red. He was far from surprised that the thing said 104.2.

“Stiles, are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? I mean… we could even drive farther and go to a different one.” Stiles shook his head.

“Don’t be scared, Sourwolf. I’ll be better in no time.” This proved to be far from the truth. As time dragged on while they waited for Melissa, Stiles’ coughing got worse. Each cough made Stiles wince in pain and Derek felt his heart skip more beats than medically sound. Eventually, Derek couldn’t take it any more and pulled up the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

“Dude, we’ve talked about this before. You can’t just start undressing me without my permission.” Derek ignored him and continued with what he was doing as though Stiles hadn’t made a sound at all. “Seriously, what are you--?”

Stiles felt a rush of relief as the pain from his burning lungs subsided. For the first time in an hour, he was able to take a deep breath without it ending in choking. That was, until he saw the black veins creating webs on Derek’s arms. Stiles jerked away and Derek barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

“Stiles, stop. I can see it in your face that it was helping, what’s the matter?”

“You can’t just do stuff like that, Derek. I didn’t ask you to take my pain. I can see the effect it has on you, the way it hurts you just as much as it hurts me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiment, but this pain is mine.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Stiles. It only hurts me for a second and then my body heals itself. But seeing you in pain… that hurts so much worse. I can make it go away, Stiles. Let me help you.” Derek pleaded with him, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“Derek, I can’t explain it… this pain is mine. It _belongs_ to me. I… I earned it.”

“What are you talking about?” Derek couldn’t help the anger that tinted his words, Stiles blaming himself for _anything_ was wrong. After all, everything that happened was Derek’s fault.

“It’s my penance! Ok? I deserve this. I deserve this and worse. Everything’s my fault… It’s about time I got what was coming to me.” Stiles said, tears beginning to roll down his face.

“Don’t say that. We both know that’s not true.” But Stiles, was hardly listening, his breaths began to get shallower as his panic mixed with his drowning lungs. Within moments the hyperventilating gave way to coughing and choking. “Shh… Stiles, just relax. I can fix this. I’m _going_ to fix this.”

Stiles feebly shook his head, but Derek ignored him and went back to what he had been doing before. After a few seconds the boys’ breathing slowed and his heavy breaths were reduced to quiet whimpers. A few minute later Derek could see that the boy had fallen asleep. Despite that, Derek waited until he absolutely couldn’t handle any more before taking his hand off of Stiles’ chest. By the time Melissa came back, Stiles was fast asleep with Derek’s eyes glued to the rise and fall of his chest.

“How’s he doing?” She asked as she entered the room.

“His temperature’s been pretty steady.” Derek answered, still sounding anxious.

“And how are you doing?” The question wasn’t tentative like Derek would expect, but strong like a mother inquiring after her son.

“Me? I’m fine, werewolves don’t get sick.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She answered gently. Derek sighed and thought about his answer for a second.

“He’s going to be ok, right? You can fix this?” Melissa had never heard anyone sound more like a child and it nearly broke her heart.

“Everything’s going to be fine. Stiles is a tough kid. You should’ve seen the injuries he got when he was younger. It goes directly against natural selection, but somehow he made it through everything and then some.” Derek looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. Melissa turned her attention back to Stiles and gently began to wake him.

“Please dad, five more minutes.” Stiles’ voice was hoarse, but what he’d said was clear. Both Derek and Melissa’s breaths caught in their throats. Melissa preemptively rubbed at the corner of her eye before a tear fell while Derek almost looked like he was going to be sick.

“Stiles, it’s me –Melissa.” As she said it, she gently nudged him until his eyes finally blinked open.

“Hey, sorry, must’ve dozed off—” Whatever he was going to say caught in his throat as he looked into Derek’s face, “Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

Derek glared at him, trying to change his features into something more sarcastic and less depressing.

“I’m annoyed we had to wake you because now we’re going to have to listen to your endless chatter. Those forty minutes of silence were bliss.” Both of them knew that it was a complete lie, but Stiles was too nice to call him out on it. Melissa spared Stiles from having to answer by getting everyone back on track.

“I picked up a couple things from the hospital. Like I said earlier, I’m going to need to take some blood to be sure that it’s pneumonia. I also grabbed a Saline IV because you most likely fainted due to dehydration.”

Stiles’ face fell a bit, but he nodded and slowly sat up on the couch. He was beside Derek, his body leaning slightly on the alpha’s. Stiles tried to keep his face stoic but paled at the sight of the needle.

“Stiles, you ok?” Derek asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah… just not a big fan of needles. Did I ever tell you about the time Scott got a tattoo? I fainted.” He tried to make it sound like it was a funny story and even faked a laugh, but the effect was lost to his ever-paling face.

“Don’t… don’t think about it. Close your eyes.” Derek suggested, unsure of what he was supposed to do in the situation. Stiles nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, holding his arm out to Melissa. She held it and lightly swabbed the skin at the crook of his elbow with something that smelled of disinfectant. Before he knew what he was doing, Derek reached for Stiles’ other hand and held it tightly. Just as Melissa inserted the needle, black veins began to appear on Derek’s arm, starting from where he held Stiles.

“Thanks, I hardly felt that at all.” Stiles said to Melissa after it was over, clearly unaware of the role Derek had played in it.

“Well, it is my job.” She answered with a smile.

“You should get a raise.” Stiles replied, a small grin appearing on his face.

“Thanks, Stiles. Ok, this one goes in your hand.” She said placing a BandAid where the needles had just been and then turning his arm over.

Derek winced sympathetically as Stiles shut his eyes again. Melissa positioned the needle and just before she pushed it in, Derek turned Stiles’ head to face him and pressed their lips together. The kiss was slow and gentle, leaving them both feeling warm even as they parted. Stiles was clearly startled, but didn’t open his eyes until Melissa had placed the adhesive on the IV. Derek had to hand it to her for not getting distracted by… whatever had just happened.

“What was that?” Stiles asked, his voice breaking slightly. Derek shrugged nonchalantly and didn’t say anything.

“Well, on that note, I should really get back to work. I’ll call you later when I have the results…” Melissa couldn’t help it -she walked out beaming. A day ago she might not have been so pleased, but after seeing the way Derek had taken care of Stiles, she couldn’t help but love the thought of the two of them together. Her heart warmed at the idea that the two broken boys might actually be able to repair each other.

“I think you might be more comfortable in your bed…” Derek said once he heard the door shut.

“So, are we just not going to talk about it? Because… I really think we should talk about this.” Derek was relieved that Stiles didn’t look unhappy, just confused. In fact, Stiles was smiling a bit.

“How about you focus on getting better now, and we talk about this later? I promise... I won’t forget about it.” Derek tried to ignore the way his cheeks warmed and turned red with every word.

“Ok… but you better not be lying.” Stiles said with a yawn, clearly not in any shape to discuss either way. The boy started to stand but his knees buckles almost instantly. Derek sighed sarcastically and then pulled Stiles into his arms.

“Unhand me, you madman.” Stiles said it with a joking and slightly delirious smile.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Stiles.” Derek answered as he carefully maneuvered around Stiles’ hand and pulled the IV into his already-full arms.

“’Prince Charming,’ my ass. Prince Sardonic more like it.” Before Derek could answer, Stiles’ eyes were already closing and his breath adjusted to a resting pace. When they reached Stiles’ room, Derek did his best not to jostle the boy too much as he placed him on the bed, but the boy still woke slightly.

“Took you long enough.” Stiles was back asleep almost as quickly as he’d woken up, leaving Derek to wonder what he’d meant. Part of Derek thought that Stiles had been referring to the trip up the stairs, but the more excited part of him wondered if he’d been talking about the kiss. Derek had been pushing the feelings down for weeks, but there was no escaping them now.

Derek spent the remainder of the night in flurry of emotions, from worrying about Stiles, to loving the idea of being with Stiles, to fear because everyone around him got hurt, to hope that maybe things were starting to work out. He tried to cling to the hope, because that was what he’d missed the most in the last ten years. A little voice in his head screamed the names of his dead loved ones at him, but for tonight he ignored them and screamed one name back at them: Stiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! For every kudos and/or comment a baby unicorn is born! I don't actually know how often I'm supposed to update this so... sorry the schedule is so erratic. I'm doing my best to post once a week (typically during the weekend) but I am flawed so... sorry if that doesn't always happen.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: keepcalmandraisechaos.tumblr.com


	5. Brand New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles takes Derek on a Birthday scavenger hunt, adorableness happens. 
> 
> Title comes from the song of the same name by Kodaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Maya for beta reading. You can find her on tumblr and AO3 as: Superwholock22. I don't think there are any trigger-inducing things here, but if you disagree just let me know and I will add them ASAP.

 

It had been a while since Stiles had talked to his mom, probably not since his dad had been missing and he’d begged her for help. He didn’t hold it against her, Stiles imagined the long-distance aid from heaven was probably difficult and he liked to believe she did everything she could. In any case, the first couple words were awkward as he whispered them in the hope that she was listening. That hope was joined by another desperate hope that Derek’s hearing was not so good that he could hear Stiles whispering to himself in the dead of night.

“Hey mom,” Stiles began, feeling the familiar words tumble out uncomfortably. “It’s been a while. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t think I forgot you, the opposite is true, I swear. It’s just… hard. I can’t-I can’t bring myself to talk to dad yet, tell him I’m sorry.” Stiles had to stop for a moment as his words caught in his throat. He had been talking to his dead mother for years, but the thought of talking to his dad was just too painful. Somehow it made it more real, as if speaking to an empty room made it more true that his dad wouldn’t walk in on him and ask whom he was talking to.

“God, I miss you both so much. I’m doing my best, I really am, but it’s so hard without you. Sometimes… Sometimes I even think about joining you. You know, get the whole family back together? But I have no doubt Dad would just kill me from up there for doing it, so I think I’m just gonna have to stick it out down here for a while longer.

“I didn’t call just to complain, though. I wanted to tell you about someone. I’m sure you’ve been watching, but incase you’ve been busy or something… There’s this werewolf named Derek… You might remember I told you about him a while ago? The one who I thought bit Scott, but didn’t? He’s actually not horrible at all. In fact, forget anything I ever told you about him. His whole family is dead so he’s living here for a while. He says he’s doing it for him, but I think he’s really just here to take care of me. I know that shouldn’t make me happy, but it does.

“He’s also really cute… I mean, drop dead gorgeous cute. I think you’d like him. He’s nice, but he also doesn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit –kind of like dad, I guess. He kissed me. The other day, I was sick and he just… kissed me. I was just wondering what I should do about it. We were supposed to talk about it, but we never did. And now I don’t know where we stand or anything and I just could really use some advice.” He tried to imagine what his mother said, probably something about him never staying quiet before –why start now? He had to agree. He could practically feel her hands running through his hair as she smiled at her lovesick son.

“Well… wish me luck. One more thing, can you make sure dad knows I love him. A lot. And tell him that I’m sorry –for everything. I know he probably won’t approve of Derek so maybe we should just keep that between us for now. If he already knows, I hope he’s ok with it. If not, just add that to the infinite list of apologies.

“The house still smells like him, did you know that? Even more so than after you… left. Or maybe I’m just older so I notice it more.” Even talking to a non-corporeal being, Stiles realized he was rambling. “Anyway, I love you. I miss you. If you could send me a sign or something, that would be awesome. If not, I totally understand. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.” Stiles imagined himself hanging up the phone with heaven and felt the loneliness consume him again. Even if she hadn’t really been there, pretending had made the room seem occupied, if only for a moment. Unbeknownst to him, Derek was downstairs blushing at everything he had heard. His heart was bleeding for the poor kid upstairs and part of him wondered if maybe he should go comfort him. He held back, afraid that Stiles would realize he’d heard everything and that would only make things worse. Instead, Derek prayed to Laura and asked her to watch Stiles for him and keep him company for tonight.

***

“Hey Stiles, could you pass me the gauze?” Isaac asked. Stiles had been at school for three months and after the first two decided it was time to get a job. Derek had started EMT training and spent most nights locked in his room studying, leaving Stiles with time that needed occupying.

While everyone was under the impression that Stiles really just wanted to work with his friends, the truth was that he had asked Deaton privately for some tutelage in medicine –specifically werewolf medicine. It had only taken one particularly bad dream to make Stiles aware of how much he was afraid of losing Derek. He knew the others would understand, it made sense for one of them to be well versed in werewolf first aid, but some part of him worried that they wouldn’t agree and he would have to stop. At the same time, he had a feeling Derek was doing the same thing with EMT training, and eventually they would inevitably come clean to each other.

“Yeah, no problem.” Stiles answered, throwing the gauze a little far to the left of Isaac and watching as the other boy dived to retrieve the item. It had become something of a game for Stiles to watch the others move with wolfish speed and test what their limits were.

“Haha, yes!” Isaac cheered, giving Stiles his usual dopey smile.

“Nice catch.” Stiles agreed, trying to force some emotion into his voice. Things were starting to get more and more normal, but somehow Stiles still couldn’t manage most positive emotions. Everything seemed shrouded in a dark cloud and there was nothing he could do to get out from beneath it. The only thing that helped was being around Derek, but it wasn’t fair of Stiles to ask him not to work just because it made smiling easier.

“Hey, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something. What are you going to do on Saturday? Not that I’m going to crash or anything, I’m sure you guys are just soloing it, but I was wondering if I could just stop by and drop something off? If not, it’s cool. I can drop it by on Sunday.”

“I’m sorry, did I miss something? What’s Saturday?” Stiles tried to run through various holidays in his head, but ended up drawing a blank.

“Oh… I thought he would’ve told you. It’s Derek’s birthday.”

“What?” Stiles’ mouth hung open in shock. “Why wouldn’t he tell me that? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I forced it out of him back when we were living together. I put it in my phone and everything. You two seem so close now, I kinda just assumed you knew.”

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do with this new information... He and Derek still hadn’t gotten around to talking about the kiss, but he figured something like a birthday was bound to slip out eventually –generally before the event itself.

Stiles spent the rest of his time at work distractedly thinking about this new revelation. Deaton let it slide as, despite his ADD, Stiles had proven himself to be a hard and diligent worker. In fact, Deaton was surprised that Stiles had never tried working there before, seeing as he was such a fast learner. Before he knew it, Stiles was going to be an expert in all things related to werewolf medicine and Deaton would be all too willing to pass some of that responsibility off to him –when he was ready.

By the time work was over, Stiles was teeming with questions. From “why didn’t Derek mention that it was his birthday?” to “how old is he even turning, anyway?” Stiles flung open the door, catching a very studious Derek off guard as several papers fluttered to the ground with the intensity of Stiles’ entrance.

“Seriously Stiles?” His tone changed as he caught sight of the clearly anxious boy, “What’s up? Are you ok?”

“Is it your birthday on Saturday?” The questions clearly took Derek by surprise and he closed his mouth against whatever he had been planning to say.

“Dammit Isaac. The next time I see him, I’m going to bash his head so hard into a wall that he won’t remember his own birthday, let alone mine.”

“How do you know it was Isaac?” Derek glared at Stiles, not wanting to tell him the pathetic truth –Isaac was the only person still alive who knew Derek’s birthday.

“Trust me, I know. Don’t even try denying it.”

“So… it really is your birthday then.” It wasn’t a question, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just some stupid day. Can you just forget about it?”

“No way! We never have anything to celebrate, it’s about time we did something fun.”

“Not this, ok? Anything else. Any other celebration and I promise I’ll join in. Hell, it could be for you spotting a squirrel on your way to school and if that’s what you want to celebrate, I’ll do it. Just… just not this.”

“Look, I know things have been rough for both of us… but you’re alive Derek, and that _matters_. Don’t’ you see that? You may not want to celebrate your existence, but I do.”

“So you want me to celebrate my birthday -for you?” Derek asked incredulously.

“No, I want you to celebrate it for you. But if that’s what it takes, then fine. Celebrate it for me. Celebrate for whoever you want, just so long as you celebrate.”

“Stiles…”

“This isn’t open for discussion. Just this once, trust me.”

“I _do_ trust you, it’s not about that…”

“Please, Derek?” Derek could feel himself being manipulated, could tell that Stiles knew exactly what his eyes were doing and the effect it would have on him. Somehow, that didn’t make it any less convincing.

“Fine,” Derek sighed in resignation, “But nothing big, ok? Just us. Maybe Isaac if he wants to… but that’s it. Deal?”

 

 

“Deal.” Stiles beamed, though Derek had no idea what he could be so excited about, it was just a stupid birthday. Derek hadn’t celebrated his birthday in the two years since Laura died, he wasn’t even sure he knew how to anymore. But if anyone could celebrate, Derek assumed it would be Stiles. And if he really had to celebrate his birthday, Derek couldn’t imagine anyone he would rather spend it with.

 ***

Stiles spent the week leading up to Saturday in a complete panic. He had no idea what to do for Derek’s birthday. On the one hand, they could do something simple like go see a movie. On the other hand, they could really go for it and go to an amusement park or something. When he finally decided on where they were going to go, he struggled to decide on each and every logistic. That being said, when Saturday did finally role around, Stiles was confident that he had planned something good.

“GOOD MORNING BEACON HILLS. Today is March fifteenth, the birthday of the one and only Derek Hale! All sourwolves should be out of bed and in the kitchen within the next five minutes or they will face the wrath of my water balloons!” Stiles ran into the guest-bedroom-turned-Derek’s-bedroom screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Stiles, it’s like… eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. Who the hell wakes up before noon on a Saturday?”

“Any other day and I would agree with you a hundred percent, but not today. Oh no, today we have festivities planned and I expect your wolfy butt to be seated in the kitchen within the time allotted or so help me you will be going to our festivities soaked due to water balloon assault.”

Derek grabbed a pillow and threw it with all his strength at Stiles’ head. When he heard the satisfying thunk that told him the object had hit its target, he hefted himself out of bed and told a still-spluttering Stiles,

“I’ll be down in two minutes.”        

Stiles half-walked, half-staggered out of the bedroom, still reeling from his encounter with the pillow. While he waited for Derek, he triple checked that everything was in place and that it had all been safely stowed in Derek’s car. He then put the two trays of French toast back into the oven so that they would be hot by the time Derek made it down. All things told, it took Derek closer to six minutes, but Stiles wasn’t going to hold it against him.

“Took you long enough.” Derek grunted in response, his hands going up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Happy Birthday, Sleeping Beauty.”

"Well, I guess it is a step up from ‘Prince Sardonic.’” Derek replied sarcastically.

“No fair, I was sick when I said that and therefore you cannot hold it against me. It’s a rule.”

“Not a chance. And what is it you always say, ‘rules are meant to be broken?’”

“Shut up and eat.” Stiles countered, placing a heaping plate of French toast in front of Derek with a flourish.

Derek tried to hide the way his eyes widened at the stack in front of him. Stiles new that French toast was his favorite breakfast -what he didn’t know was the reason behind it. Talia had never been one for cooking, her Alpha duties made it nearly impossible for her to have that kind of time. The only thing she did make was French toast, and that was only on rare and special occasions. It baffled Derek to think that at this time, on this day, so many years ago, he was eating the exact same thing but under a completely different set of circumstances. At one point the thought would have made Derek’s heart ache, but compared to his non-existent birthday last year, he couldn’t help but smile at the new arrangement.

“Thanks, Stiles. This looks great.” The sincerity of it startled Stiles and he searched his mind for some sort of response. In the end he gently slapped Derek on the back and said,

“Yeah, no problem. Dig in.” They were spared from having to talk as they filled their mouths with the delicious morsels. When they were finally finished, a large stack still remained on the plate. Stiles busily wrapped it in plastic and shoved it into the fridge; using the motion as further reason not to talk… And then they were out of excuses. Stiles took a steadying breath and silently prayed that Derek would be as psyched about the plan as Stiles was when planning it. He pulled an envelope from a drawer and shoved it into Derek’s hands.

Derek raised his eyebrows by way of question.

“Don’t give me that look. Open it.” Stiles commanded with more confidence than he actually felt.

“What is it?” Derek asked, suspiciously eyeing the white envelope.

“It’s an envelope Derek. Have you never seen an envelope before? It’s a thin rectangle usually containing—”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Open the envelope.” Derek gave a final sigh and then unceremonious tore at the package until its contents were revealed to him. There was a note inside that read:

            GO FIND ME IN THE FOREST

“I don’t get it.” Derek said after a seconds of staring at the note.

“Well, obviously. Do you want to drive or shall I?” Derek raised his eyebrows and gave Stiles a look that combined confusion and impatience. “I’ll explain everything on the road.”

“I’ll drive.” Derek grabbed his keys off the counter and stormed out to the car without giving Stiles a second glance, leaving the younger boy to sprint in order to keep up.

“Ok, just drive to the opening where the sign is. Somewhere in the forest is a shirt that has my scent ALL over it, you find the shirt, you find a gift and a clue to your next destination.”

“So… it’s a scavenger hunt?” Stile’s eyes fell as he realized how ridiculous it sounded. Suddenly a week’s worth of planning felt as though it had been for nothing and Stiles wished more than anything that he had decided to go the amusement park route.

“I know it’s hokey…”

“No, actually, sounds kind of cool.” Stiles suspected that Derek was lying to protect his feelings, but a small part of him thought that just maybe it was the truth. They rode in silence after that. Once they made it to the forest, they pulled off to the side of the road and Derek immediately began sniffing.

They walked a few steps until Derek paused abruptly and pulled Stiles into his arms.

“What… are… you… doing?” Stiles tried to get the words out as he was essentially assaulted by Derek’s nose.

“Making sure I have your scent.” Derek answered, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“You’re a weirdo, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Only you every day since I met you.”

“Ah, well then it must be true.”

“Must be.” Derek agreed with a grin. They walked on a while longer until Derek broke into a sprint, forcing Stiles to chase after him. By the time Stiles caught up with Derek, the younger of the two was panting breathlessly while the other was holding up a red t-shirt victoriously.

“Did you open the gift?” Stiles asked between wheezes. For a moment he almost wished he had Scott’s inhaler.

“Nope, I was waiting for you.” With that he began to tear at the paper wrapped around a little rectangle. He opened it to find a book.

“’A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius?’” Derek asked, reading the title of the book.

“Conceited, I know. That’s kind of the point, though. Trust me, I think you’ll really like it.” Derek eyed it curiously and Stiles was happy to see that at the very least, he didn’t look like he was going to reject it. He flipped through the pages for a moment until a new envelope came out of it and fluttered to the ground. Derek ripped it open and found the second clue.

“Drive safe.” Was all it said. Again, Derek looked to Stiles for an explanation. Stiles took another second to catch his breath and then turned to face Derek with a mischievous grin.

“I’ll give you a hint when we get to the car. Come on Sourwolf, the day is only just beginning.” Derek tried to make his standard “annoyed” face, but broke instantly into a smile. This time, he allowed the boy to lead him out of the forest and back to the car. Once there, Derek refused to unlock the vehicle until Stiles had given him the second hint.

“Drive that way.” Stiles said, pointing in the opposite direction from where they had come from.

“That’s it? That’s the whole hint?”

“Yup, take it or leave it.” Derek sighed dramatically and then got into the car; looking impatient but waiting until Stiles was buckled in to start moving. Stiles hummed quietly to himself while Derek kept his eyes peeled for anything that might alert him to what his next objective was. Just as Derek was beginning to feel frustrated, blue and red flashing lights appeared behind his car along with the terrible noise of sirens. He instinctively looked down to the speedometer as he pulled to the side of the road, if anything he was going below the speed limit thanks to Stiles not telling him what he was looking for.

Derek felt himself break out into a sweat, not exactly having the best track record with law enforcement. Stiles, on the other hand, remained perfectly calm in the seat beside him, pulling out his phone and playing angry birds as the police officer strolled up to the driver’s side window.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?” Each word was practically dripping with stress and his voice seemed to jump several octaves.

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

“Umm… yes? I could’ve sworn I was below the speed limit.” He didn’t want to sound petulant; the confusion in his voice was real.

“Exactly, my grandma drives faster than that… and she’s dead.” The police officer was a woman in her mid forties and despite the scowl on her face, she was clearly trying to keep in laughter. “Aw, I’m just messing with ya. Happy birthday, kid; here’s your next clue.”

She handed Derek a large pouch that made clinking noises as it moved. The man had to force himself not to give an audible sigh of relief at the changed situation, mentally making a reminder to kill Stiles for putting him through that ordeal. Inside the bag Derek found roughly three hundred tokens to an arcade not too far from where they were. The next activity of his birthday scavenger hunt having been revealed, he felt slightly ashamed at the childish thrill the thought of going to an arcade brought him.

 “Um… thanks.” Derek tried to make his response sound more lighthearted than it actually felt.

“No problem. See Stiles? I told you I always wanted to be an actress.” She addressed the younger of the two with a teasing smile, which he easily returned.

“No doubt you would have been excellent, Maggie. Thanks a million for this.”

“It was no trouble, really. Most fun I’ve had on the job in ages. Well, have fun you two… you deserve it.” The sadness was evident on her face and Derek wondered just how closely she had worked with the Sheriff for Stiles to be able to ask this of her. The younger swallowed thickly before replying,

“Thanks, we’ll do our best.”

“You should really stop by sometime, I’m sure everyone would love to see you.” She said this part softly, not trying to be overly pushy but clearly concerned for the boy sat before her.

“Yeah, soon, I promise.” Derek could tell by the way that he said it that Stiles had no intention of doing so. The woman seemed to sense it to, but didn’t push it.

“Alright well, I best be getting back to work. Happy birthday, again.”

“Thanks.” Derek said, this time sounding as grateful as he actually felt. Stiles just smiled and nodded his head rather than actually saying goodbye. In a matter of seconds she was gone and the men were back on the road.

“Sorry about that, I really didn’t think she would be that believable. I know it was only for a second, but I swear I could feel your anxiety from here.”

Derek grunted, “Don’t be so melodramatic, I just don’t really get along with people in uniforms. She seemed cool, though.” He added the second part as an afterthought.

“I’ve noticed. And yeah, she really is.” He thought about adding a comment about how she had kept him company when his dad was running late, but thought better of it. “Hang a left here.”

“I know how to get there.”

“You… you do?” Stiles did his best to keep the shock out of his voice but failed miserably.

“Yeah, my sisters and I used to go there all the time. Peter too.” At the mention of Peter they both grimaced, he had skipped town after the deaths and Derek couldn’t help but feel abandoned. Not that he really wanted him there, but it was still a pretty crappy thing to do considering the circumstances. “I _was_ a kid once, Stiles.”

“Logically I know that, but seeing as you haven’t told me how old you actually are, it could have been hundreds of years ago for all I know.”

“It wasn’t hundreds of years ago.”

“Thanks, that narrows it down a ton.” Derek smirked but said nothing. They arrived at the arcade about ten minutes later, both Stiles and Derek practically bursting with excitement by the time they got there. As they were walking in Stiles mumbled,

“Look, I know this might seem ridiculous, so let me know if you want to head out and I am right behind you. I just… we never really get to act like kids anymore, you know? I thought that maybe for a day, we could just pretend for a bit.”

“Stiles, shut up.”

“But—”

“But nothing, it’s perfect.”  Stiles smiled and walked in with a renewed sense of confidence.

They began by playing air hockey, Derek winning every round either thanks to his wolf abilities or Stiles’ lack of coordination. Each time he considered letting Stiles win he remembered the terror he had felt when the police car had pulled up behind him and the sentiment dissipated quickly. After that came skee ball, then pinball, until they had played every game in the joint -most of them several times. By the end they had a massive stash of tickets between the two of them. Stiles handed Derek his own pile, refusing to give in to the other man’s rejections.

“It’s your birthday, just take ‘em.” It was stated as though Derek had an option, though clearly that was not the case. Finally, the elder one sighed and added the bundle to his own. They approached the counter and Stiles gave a less-than-subtle nod to the man standing behind it, who responded in kind.

“What can I get you?” He asked, addressing Derek.

“Umm… we have eight hundred tickets... How about that?” He answered, pointing to a vintage Batman action figure.

“Excellent choice.” The man bent down and grabbed a square envelope before reaching over and taking down the toy.

“Hm… a Batman fan? I can’t believe in all the months of living together this never came up.” Just as Stiles finished speaking, Derek handed him the prize.

“Well, I know you are.” Derek said easily.

 “But… But it’s your birthday. You’re not supposed to give people presents on _your_ birthday, Derek. Jeez, how long has it been since you’ve done this?”

“Don’t be an idiot, I know that… I just figured we could share it. Half the tickets were yours, after all. You’re not the only Batman fan, though I kind of like the Marvel universe a bit better.”

“Marvel? Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.”

“Whedon?”

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t ya?” Stiles couldn’t cover it up -he was positively beaming.

“I do my best.” Derek answered, returning the smile. He then began to open his latest envelope. Inside were two movie tickets and a CD; the tickets were to some comedy he vaguely remembered saying he wanted to see, the CD was blank.

“We’re going to a movie?” Derek asked, assuming that was the next scavenger hunt activity.

“Correction: you’re going to a movie. Well, you and Isaac.” As if on cue, the curly-haired boy strolled into the arcade.

“And what will you be doing?” Derek questioned, thankfully not sounding annoyed.

"None of your business.” Derek cocked his head slightly.

“And the CD?”

“I may have made you a playlist… It’s just a couple of songs I thought you might like.” Stiles shrugged as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“You ready to go?” Isaac asked, saving Derek from having to respond.

“Um… yeah. See you later, I guess?”

“Yup. Have fun!” Derek seemed to hesitate for a moment -not wanting to leave Stiles- but finally turned and walked out, Isaac in tow.

Stiles thanked the man at the counter and handed him a few dollars, which he gratefully accepted. The ride home seemed uncomfortably quiet without Derek, even with the radio turned up. His mood changed when he got back to his house and saw Lydia’s car already parked there, the redhead sitting on the steps waiting for him.

“You’re late.” She said, not angrily but more like an observation.

“Sorry, who knew Derek Hard-Ass Hale was a sucker for arcade games?” Lydia shrugged, standing up and brushing invisible dust from her skirt.

“I’ll go preheat the oven, you go grab the stuff out of my car. Don’t forget to lock it.” Stiles was almost grateful to have Lydia telling him what to do after a day of being in charge. He easily handed her the keys to the house, trading them for the ones to her car. Inside the Range Rover (her dad had bought her a new vehicle following the incident with the dear), Stiles found a mountain of groceries. There were no less than ten bags and he laughed to himself at the insanity that was Lydia Martin. Refusing to take more than one trip, he put his arms through every handle, locked the car, and then waddled through the door and into the kitchen. Lydia pursed her lips against a laugh, but said nothing.

“So… how do we do this?” Stiles asked, throwing on a “kiss the chef” apron.

“Watch and learn.”

Stiles hadn’t cooked in years, but with Lydia’s tutelage he found it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. By the time Derek and Isaac returned to the house, the pizza had been delivered, Lydia was gone, and the fruits of their efforts were stashed safely away –hidden upstairs, beneath Lysol-soaked towels to prevent the wolf from getting a whiff of his final surprise.

“How was the movie?” Stiles asked as the two entered the house.

“Hilarious!” Isaac answered enthusiastically.

“Not too bad.” Derek answered, though his smile betrayed him slightly.

“Glad to hear it. You staying for dinner, Isaac?”

“Nah, I promised Ms. McCall I’d be back early. I should probably head out soon. Could I just give you my gift, real quick?” The latter part was addressed to Derek. The man nodded and Isaac sprinted to Stiles’ room where he’d hidden his present earlier. He was back moments later with an impossibly large box.

“What in God’s name is that?” Derek asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

"Shut up and open the box.” Stiles responded for Isaac, excited to find out himself what was hidden inside. Derek sighed and began pulling at the birthday-themed wrapping, then used a wolf nail to easily carve through the cardboard. Inside he saw a guitar case, though he refused to believe it until he opened the thing fully. Of course, he was right -inside was an acoustic Gibson guitar. Derek looked up at the floppy-haired boy in shock. Isaac shrugged,

“It’s really from the McCalls and me. I noticed that you had one in the loft but it seemed kind of… charred. I figured maybe you used to play or something. If not, you can return it to Guitar Center and get the money back… or use it as an excuse to learn… either way.”

“This is… you have no idea how amazing this is. Thank you, Isaac. Tell Scott and Melissa thanks too… This is really too much. I can’t believe you did this.” The response was so genuine that Stiles had to bite his lip to stop the ridiculously sappy grin that was spreading on his face. To both of the younger two’s shock, Derek reached over and pulled Isaac into a hug. It was one of the first times either of them had seen Derek instigate physical contact in a non-emergency situation. Isaac was quick to hug back and then pulled Stiles in with him. It became awkward pretty quickly, but the sentiment was still nice and shared by everyone in the room.

“As much as I hate to leave after that, I really should be going.” Isaac said after they had been standing in silence for a few minutes.

“Ok, well, thanks again. You really shouldn’t have… but thank you.”

“No problem, Derek.” And then he was out the door, leaving Stiles back in charge of the birthday celebration.

“I know it’s not that original, but I ordered pizza for dinner.”

“Original or not, sounds perfect to me.”

“Awesome. So, tell me what I missed.” Derek launched into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since he and Isaac had left the arcade. It was weird hearing him speak so freely, but clearly the guitar had made him forget to be broody. It was nice seeing Derek so upbeat, so Stiles held back his normal commentary and instead settled for a few “mhmm”’s and “oh”’s to keep the other man going. At last he ran out of stream and Stiles was finally able to say what was on his mind. Speaking around a piece of pizza, he asked,

“So… guitar?” The older of the two stopped chewing and looked up. He paused for a second, considering his words carefully before saying,

“Yeah… uh, my dad actually taught me. It’s been a while, I probably suck now.” Derek shrugged, as if this revelation meant nothing to him.

“I’m sure that’s not true. I’m actually looking forward to having music in the house again. My mom used to play the piano. She taught me, and we still have her old Steinway in the garage. We should duet sometime.” Derek could see what Stiles was doing; he was trying to reciprocate the favor of information. They both knew how hard it was to get that stuff out, so he was rewarding Derek with a small piece of his own.

“Yeah, that would be fun.” Derek answered, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice. They finished their pizza in comfortable silence, Stiles growing more anxious by the second as considered the next part of the evening. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he cleared away the dishes and forced Derek to wait patiently in the living room while he went and got everything from upstairs. Lydia had thought of everything and all the baked good were stacked neatly on a tray. When he reached the kitchen, Stiles paused and took everything except the two main dishes from the tray. He then lit the question mark shaped candles he had ordered online and walked carefully to Derek.

“Happy birthday to you…” Stiles sang, making his way towards the bemused werewolf. When he finished, he placed the tray in front of Derek and watched as his eyes widened in recognition. Despite the surprise, Derek managed to keep himself together enough to make a wish (in his head, of course), and blow out the candles.

“Stiles…?”

“I know, I know, you don’t eat chocolate cake. I was thinking about how we were talking about moving on and how much you’ve helped me… I just wanted to give something back to you -but something you couldn’t get back by yourself. If you don’t like it, or don’t want to ruin the night or something I totally understand and I have vanilla cake, several tubs of ice cream, and a batch of Lydia’s cookies waiting in the next room.” Stiles blurted it all out quickly, regretting his plan immediately.

“It’s… uh… it’s nice, actually. I can’t promise to like it, but the thought is definitely a good one. I want to try it. You’re right; it’s time to move on. Just one question… why are there two?”

“Right… so I was talking to Lydia, she guided me through baking, and she revealed that there are actually many kinds of chocolate cake. The two you see here are known as ‘cakey’ and ‘fudgy,’ who knew? Also… the one on the left is my mom’s recipe.” He said the last part quickly, thinking that maybe if he said it fast enough Derek wouldn’t notice the way his voice inevitably broke as he revealed this little factoid.

“Wow… that’s… wow. Thanks Stiles.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you might hate it and this might actually be the worst birthday gift ever.” His inner monologue broke through before he could stop it and he bit his lip in an attempt to stop any more insecurities from coming through.

“Peter gave me wolfsbane once… as a joke. I seriously doubt you could trump that if you wanted to.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but thank god for Peter.” Derek nodded thoughtfully, unsure of what the right response to that was.

“Ok, I’m going to go cut this. What kind of cake do you prefer?”

“Your mom’s recipe.”

“You don’t even know if that’s the ‘cakey’ or ‘fudgy’ one!” Stiles replied indignantly.

“It’s my birthday, Stiles. Quit whining and cut the damn cake.”

“Yessir.” Stiles answered, giving a mock-salute for added effect. He was back in an instant, two plates of cake in hand. Derek reached for the cake without hesitating, much to Stile’s surprise. The man loaded a fork, paused for a second to stare at the dessert, and then popped it into his mouth. His groan of pleasure was instantaneous and he sunk into the couch with satisfaction.

“Good?” Stiles asked, though the answer was clear on Derek’s face.

“It’s even better than I remember it being. Did I mention it was my favorite dessert?”

“I kind of guessed. So, it doesn’t taste like… memories?” Stiles hesitated, but decided that he had to ask.

“No… I mean yes, but not bad ones. It tastes like every birthday party I had with my parents. It tastes like having a pack and family again. Before… before the fire, that’s what this was… and that’s what it is again. I mean, there’s some memory of that first time eating it afterward, but the other memories are stronger now.”

“Well… good. That means we’re going to be eating the possible alternative desserts for a month -but I’m not complaining.” Stiles tried to lighten the mood, but the look on Derek’s face made it nearly impossible.

“Thank you, Stiles. Not just for the cake -although that was amazing- but for today –and for everything. You’re pretty incredible.”

“Aw shucks, man. I’m blushing.” Stiles was still trying desperately to keep up the humor.

“I’m serious, this day was… well, it was the most amazing day I’ve had in a while –maybe ever. So… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Derek.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for not updating for a while, I was applying to college, and I got a job, and I'm self-publishing a book... so there really just wasn't time. But hey, Teen Wolf comes back on Monday and I am super ready to begin updating again. I'm going to try for every other week, I think. Thank you for your patience. If you didn't understand the chocolate cake thing, it was a reference to the first chapter. I promise Scott will come back soon enough! I hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> For every kudos and/or comment a baby unicorn is born! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: keepcalmandraisechaos.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it!  
> If you want to follow me on Tumblr, you can find me at: keepcalmandraisechaos.tumblr.com
> 
> All you comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> -Talli


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